XIV.
“If thou the moon wilt be
Sailing in glory,
I’ll be the halo white
Hovering every night
Around and o’er thee!”
XV.
“Yet shall thy shadowy arm
Embrace me never!
I will turn virgin rose,
And all my thorns oppose
To thee for ever!”
XVI.
“If thou become a rose,
Vain too shall this be!
Seest thou not that I,
As a bright butterfly,
Freely may kiss thee?”
XVII.
“Urge, then, thy mad pursuit:
Idly thou’lt follow!
I’ll in the deep wood bide;
I’ll in the old oak hide,
Gnarlèd and hollow.”